All Aboard the Hogwarts Express
by RainThestral93
Summary: Returning to Hogwarts for their 8th Year in order to complete their NEWTs, Hermione, Ron and Harry's friendship is tested by the strain of Ron and Hermione's breakup. It seems to Hermione that everyone is certain of their future - and for once Hermione finds herself struggling when it comes to realising what she wants. Could what she wants be a certain blonde haired Slytherin?...
1. Boarding the Train for the Last Time

Chapter One: Boarding the Train for the Last Time

Hermione sighed, as she made a precarious effort to balance Crookshank's cage on top of her suitcase, listening to Ron and Harry bickering about seats on the train. Things hadn't been the same between the three of them since she'd decided to break things off with Ron during the summer holidays at the Burrow – Ron was still nursing a grudge against her, even if he pretended to act fine around everyone else.

The reality was that Ron was too much of a "flaunt what you have" kind of guy, whereas Hermione preferred the quiet intimacy of her own head, hating it when other people knew about her private life. That was probably one of the reasons that she hated Rita Skeeter so much, Hermione mused. The last thing she had needed was to walk down to breakfast one morning at the Burrow and hear Ron describing his sex life in great detail to Fred, George and Harry, who all hadn't shut up about it for a long while afterwards – that had probably been the straw that broke the camel's back. A half smile flitted across her face – at least Mrs Weasley hadn't caught onto the never ending stream of jokes about how Ron had finally convinced Hermione to put out. Now that _would_ have been cringe worthy. But that hadn't been the only problem, with their relationship.

Hermione had found it difficult, during the summer at the Burrow, when Harry and Ginny had talked of themselves in the future tense – married, with kids. She just couldn't see herself as a stay at home house wife, spewing out babies by the bucket load, whilst Ron went to work and put food on the table. That wasn't for her, she had slowly realised. She had aspirations – things she wanted to do, things she wanted to be. A family, or even the idea of it, would only tie her down, and it was because of their conflicting ambitions that she realised her and Ron wouldn't work in the long term. Besides, it didn't help that Ron had an instinctive way of flirting with everything that had two X chromosomes – she had watched as his eyes had followed Fleur Delacour around the room when the newlyweds had visited the Burrow in the summer. She rolled her eyes, the reality was Ron and she had been caught up in the final battle – embarking on a relationship that neither of them had put much consideration into at the time. Sure, the attention had been nice at the time, but now all it had managed to do was create a laceration in their friendship.

Managing a feeble but self-assuring smile, Hermione told herself that this year, as they returned to Hogwarts to finish their NEWTS – something that they'd not had the chance to do, because they were busy hunting Horcruxes in order to defeat Voldemort – she would find time to fix this laceration, and the Golden Trio would be one, once again.

The piercing whistle of the Hogwarts Express jolted Hermione to attention, and in a final flurry of activity, her luggage was loaded onto the train, and she bade Mrs Weasley farewell with a bone crushing hug. The woman's warmth enveloped Hermione in such a way that it made her miss her own parents, who were currently residing in Australia with no idea that they'd ever had a daughter.

Harry smiled at Hermione, as she finally escaped from Molly's embrace, "Just think," he began, getting Ron's attention too, "This is the last time we'll ever board the Hogwarts Express. Kind of sad, don't you think?"

Hermione returned the grin, linking Harry's arm in her own, "Yeah I guess... but at the same time everything has to come to an end sometimes."

"Oh shut up, you two," Ron groaned, a grin splayed across his freckle-spattered face. "You two are always so bloody sentimental – who cares! Let's just get on the train before it leaves without us!"

The trio chuckled, but did as Ron said, and clambered onto the train – which now had an extra carriage in order to accommodate the new "Eighth Years". Professor McGonagall – now Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – had declared that any students that had missed their studies as a consequence of Lord Voldemort were welcome to return to the school and complete their exams. A very generous gesture, Hermione mused, but also rather crucial. People wouldn't get very far in the Wizarding World of work without valid NEWTS, even if they _were_ the golden trio, so it was with enthusiasm Hermione looked forward to resuming her studies.

There was the question, however, of where the extra students would be boarded – after all, whilst there had been many casualties in the Final Battle, there was still the issue of space. It was on this matter that the trio debated as the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station for the last time.

"Where d'you think we'll be sleeping," Ron asked, biting the head off a Chocolate Frog as he did so. "I can't imagine we'll be in the Gryffindor common rooms – there won't be any space, what with all the First Years."

"Hmm," Hermione wondered. "They could probably turn the Divination tower into living space – it's not as if Divination is going to get anyone anywhere, anyway!" The trio laughed – Hermione's detest for Professor Trelawney's subject was a running joke between the year groups. The one subject Hermione failed to excel at at – with the exception of flying – meant that she had hated the subject from the very beginning.

Once the laughing had subsided, Harry mused pensively. "They could always have converted Myrtle's bathroom – it's not as if it's in use, anyway. Besides, the Chamber of Secrets was cleared out by the Ministry during the summer – I heard your parents talking about it, Ron." Hermione nodded, and Ron seemed too engaged in a box of Bertie Bott's Beans to really pay attention.

"Of course," Hermione agreed, "I bet they've converted Myrtle's bathroom and the Chamber to accommodate us all. I wonder – d'you think they'll be separate areas for all the houses?" Harry shook his head, but Hermione continued anyway. "Who's returning, anyway? There are us three, Neville, Luna, Dean, Padma and Parvati, Lavender –"When she said Lavender's name Ron snapped to attention. Rolling her eyes, Hermione continued. "There's also Cho, Cormac, Lee, Seamus, Susan Katie ... what about the Slytherins?"

Harry shuddered – the very thought of the children of Death Eater's who'd pursued him and his friends still brought a chill to his bones, and he wondered who would dare return to Hogwarts and face the persecution that no doubt would face them. That was the problem, he thought to himself, when your family picked the wrong side to fight for. In answer to Hermione's question, Harry retorted "Well Crabbe's dead, and I heard Malfoy-"

"– the bastard", Ron interjected, earning a reproachful look from both Harry and Hermione.

"Is being sent back against his wishes by his mother... after they gave Lucius the Dementor's kiss, she's beside herself with grief, and wants him to get his NEWTS so he can go about handling the family business." Hermione finished.

Harry and Ron looked at her in stunned silence. "What?" She exclaimed.

"How the hell did you know all that," Ron asked a bemused look on his face.

"It's called reading, guys," Hermione rolled her eyes. "You'd know too if you read the Daily Prophet."

Harry continued, slightly shaken at the interruption. "Anyway, not so many Slytherins are coming back to Hogwarts this year. That's got to be one good thing that came from the Battle," Harry chuckled.

"No Slytherin girls, either, I don't think. Looks like the Slytherins are going to have to come across their blood issues, if any of them want girlfriends," Ron chipped in, his mouth full of a jelly snake. That last comment made Hermione retreat into silence, as she gazed out of the train window; her breath steaming up the glass.

Why did everything boys say always come down to the opposite sex?


	2. A New Leaf

Chapter Two: A New Leaf

As they pulled into Hogsmeade, the general atmosphere was a lot quieter than usual. The final battle before the summer had taken its toll on everyone, and there were signs of the troubles the students had endured when you looked into their eyes – some peoples' eyes appeared glassed over, and they had vacant stares on their faces, whereas others had a firm, steadfast resolve painted on their faces, as if they were enduring an on-going battle with themselves to be strong and get on with life, despite all the hardships they'd endured. Hermione sighed to herself; she could already tell that things wouldn't be the same this year. There was no on-going mystery – no evil dark wizard who was trying to kill her friends – so instead she only had her exams and her future to focus on.

Her future.

Those two words scared her immensely – more than the prospect of duelling a death eater or two, or killing a Horcrux ever had – because Hermione Granger, for once, had no idea what she wanted to do.

As the Golden trio road up to the castle in the Thestral-drawn carriages, they smiled sadly at the wondrous expressions on the other student's faces, which were now seeing the winged Thestrals for the first time, because of the deaths they'd all witnessed. Harry broached the very subject that had been worrying Hermione, first. "What are we going to do, you know," he began, "after this year is over? Once we've got our exams?"

Ron stared off into the distance for a moment, in a daydream, before answering Harry. "I'm going to try out for Keeper for Chudley Cannons, mate," he grinned and Harry and Hermione smiled wanly at him. Neither of them wanted to break it to him that he was hardly the best keeper they'd ever seen, but, being Ron's best friends, they kept quiet. Then again, Hermione mused, The Chudley Cannons were hardly the best team, so maybe Ron _would_ make the team. "You?" Ron asked, to Harry and Hermione. Shrugging, Hermione let Harry answer, first.

"I don't know. Defence Against the Dark Arts has always been my best subject, so I might see if McGonagall wants me to take the position at Hogwarts, or maybe I'll train to be an Auror," Harry suggested, and he was met with wild nods of agreement from Ron and Hermione. Harry would make hardly need much training to make a good Auror, Hermione thought to herself. He had more courage and experience fighting bad wizards than anyone else at the Ministry of Magic.

It was now Hermione's turn. "Erm I'm not too sure," she began, and Harry and Ron rolled their eyes.

"Come on Hermione, you're the cleverest witch I know, and you don't _know?_ " Ron exclaimed, and Harry nodded in agreement.

"It's not that... it's just I've never thought about it before," Hermione continued. "I mean I've always been so busy thinking about Voldemort, and what our next move would be, that I've never properly sat down and thought about a career path. But I guess I would like to be Mediwitch, or maybe work in publishing..."

Harry and Ron smiled at Hermione, who, with a shrug of her shoulders turned and surveyed the great castle that stood before them; the damage that had been done to it in the final battle repaired, and with a few modifications at that. Even from as far away as the carriages were, Hermione could already see the extra bulges, which she presumed were either extra classrooms or living quarters for this year's extended intake of students.

When the carriages finally pulled up to the school, children and young adults milled around hugging and chatting to those they hadn't seen since the battle – exchanging stories of holidays abroad and gossip. The sight of unity brought a smile to Hermione's face, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and surveyed as Harry was engulfed by a sea of admirers, Ron, desperately trailing behind in a search for at least some glory.

A tall, dark haired boy with a scar trailing down from his hairline turned and grinned in recognition when he saw Hermione, and enveloped her in a bone crushing hug. It took Hermione a few extra seconds to recognise the gangly youth as Neville – and for the first time in ages, a broad grin spread across her face. Neville was one of the people who had grown up, since the battle – his shoulders now broader, his face looking slightly careworn and weather beaten, and his voice was now deep and clear rather than the squeaky and timid first-year Neville Longbottom she'd grown to know and love. Luna milled over to the group, a pink star hanging on a rainbow coloured thread around her neck, and she smiled warmly at Hermione, before reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss Neville, who returned the gesture passionately, as he locked lips with Luna, an arm snaking around her waist.

Hermione's grin fell as she walked away from the embracing couple. It seemed like she truly would be forever alone, at this rate, as Ron's old time lover, Lavender simpered after him, whilst he ignored her, still looking for some glory from Harry's admirers. Ginny was gazing fondly at Harry, but he hadn't seen her yet, Hermione noticed, from where she was stood at the top of the steps. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hermione folded her robes – which she has been surprised to find still fitted her, from last term – beneath her, as she sat down on the step and opened her book to where she had left off.

Over the years, Hermione had become accomplished at the art of blocking out noise, so, ignoring the excited chatter and general static noise that surrounded her, Hermione let the crisp cream pages of her latest novel engulf her. It was a good book – a Muggle book, for a change, one she'd bought at Kings Cross before they left for Hogwarts – and was the tale of Bella Swan, a girl in love with a vampire. It was completely devoid from the truth, but nevertheless it made an interesting read. So interesting, in fact, that is took the blonde boy who stood over Hermione several attempts to catch her attention.

When he finally did, with a loud clearing of his throat, Hermione looked up in surprise, and nearly dropped her crisp new copy of _Twilight._ "Malfoy?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly in shock at the fact that he seemed to be acknowledging her existence.

"Yes, that would be me," he drawled, which would have been sarcastic – Hermione wasn't too sure – before he continued. "D'you mind if I join you?" He asked, gesturing to the stone step beside her. Her eyes widened in shock – after everything, did he seriously think he could waltz in as if he'd never supported the evil wizard who'd been trying to kill her and her friends? But then Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy as she recalled the Prophet article she'd read – the one regarding Lucius Malfoy and his trial, and finally the Dementors administrating the kiss of death. She nodded, and Malfoy sat down beside her, careful, she noted, not to touch her.

He clearly still had blood issues, she mused. But who could blame him, she thought, with parents like his. "How was your summer?" He asked, seemingly genuinely interested. Hermione turned to regard him suspiciously before replying.

"Same old, same old. My parents are in Australia with no recollection of ever having a daughter, my best friends are basking in the glory that comes with winning a war, whilst I've been trying to finish this book except I keep getting interrupted," Hermione gestured to the book in her hands.

"Twilight?" Malfoy smirked.

Hermione threw him a warning look. "Yes, Twilight. What's wrong with it?" Hermione asked the tone in her voice a little harsh, as if she was testing this new found civility.

"Nothing," Malfoy grinned, "I'd just never pegged you as an unrealistic teen-trashy romance kind of girl," he smirked. Hermione's mouth dropped slightly, before she realised he had a point. Before, she'd never have pegged herself as that kind of a girl, either. It seemed she'd become increasingly desperate and lovesick after her break up with Ron – trading her usual factual history books for teen fiction. She grinned, and replied to Malfoy.

"It's not _totally_ unrealistic," she began, but she was met with a raised eyebrow from Malfoy.

"It's about a vampire who kills animals so he doesn't have to drink human blood and sparkles," Malfoy pointed out, a smirk on his face.

"You've read it?" Hermione asked, shocked. He shrugged, looking kind of sheepish.

"I found myself with a lot of spare time during the summer holidays," he explained. He didn't have to say, but Hermione knew he was alluding to his father's death, and his mother's breakdown. "I spent a lot of time in the Muggle part of London during the summer – and it seemed that Meyer's series were all that Muggle bookshops were stocking, so of course I thought I'd see if it was everything it was cut out to be." Hermione gaped, shocked at how honest and _nice_ Malfoy was being, but he continued, regardless of her shock. "I could ruin the end for you, but I won't, seeing as I've meant to turn over a new leaf."

"Umm... thanks?" Hermione said, the cogs in her brain turning at a million miles an hour. This whole thing was so confusing. What was Draco Malfoy doing, being so nice to someone like her? Hermione Granger, who he'd always pointed out, was a filthy little Mudblood... she shook it off, as Draco threw her a broad grin.

When Hermione thought about it, she could see why Draco had his reputation with the girls of Slytherin for being somewhat of a ladies' man – he actually could hold an intelligent conversation, and he wasn't too bad on the eyes either. He'd dropped the habit of slicking his hair back with that preposterous gel, Hermione noted, and instead his blond locks fell slightly in his eyes, and he kept flicking them to the side. His grey eyes, although they still held a cold, hard edge, seemed warmer somehow - like a block of ice that was finally melting after a cold, long winter.

Snap out of it, Hermione told herself, this is Malfoy we're talking about. He's one of the reasons that so many of her friends were now lying motionless in their graves. But a little part of her niggled away, trying earnestly to believe what Malfoy had told her, that he'd turned over a new leaf.

"Don't mention it, Granger," Malfoy chuckled, as he picked himself up, dusting off his robes. "Unfortunately, whilst I'd love to stay and keep you company whilst all of these imbeciles fulfil their embraces which would make anyone think they haven't seen each other in ten years, I have to go and take my luggage to my room. See you later," he smiled, as he turned on his heels and walked off into the courtyard, where a pile of luggage was growing.

Hermione sat in stunned silence, for a few moments, before she had the composure to turn back to the crisp pages of her novel.

But try as she might, after that experience with Malfoy, she could no longer see Edward Cullen in the swoony teenage heart throb way that was surely intended; instead all she could see was a sparkling pathetic wimp. She groaned, slamming the book shut and putting it back in her back.

Leaning back against the cool brick of the castle, once more surveying the sea of students, Hermione thought about the year ahead. Maybe it really _would_ be different this year…


	3. You Can't Just Wipe the Slate Clean

Chapter Three: You Can't Just Wipe the Slate Clean

Looking into the courtyard, she could see that Malfoy had bent down to tie his laces, and hadn't yet taken to his luggage anywhere. She stood up, brushing her robes down, removing invisible dirt, shoved _Twilight_ into her already over-stuffed bag, and walked briskly to catch up with Malfoy, who'd now stood up and was making his exit.

"Wait," she began. "Where are you taking your bags? We don't know where our common rooms are yet," she exclaimed, and a thoughtful expression flitted across Malfoy's face.

"You're right, I don't! How silly of me. Well in that case, I can keep you company a bit longer." He threw her a wry grin, and Hermione found herself smiling in spite of everything that had ever occurred between the blonde-haired Slytherin and herself. What would Ron and Harry say if they thought she was 'fraternizing with the enemy?' She pushed the thought aside, as a realisation hit her. Before her stood Draco Malfoy. A person, she thought, who before the Final Battle, she'd happily have punched, like she had back in their third year. He was a person who she could honestly say she hated; he was spineless, evil and there was nothing redeemable about him. But ever since that day, in Malfoy manor, when he'd hesitated, and not given the Golden trio's presence away, she wasn't so sure. He'd done some terrible things, she thought, but then again his circumstances weren't exactly easy. When the Dark Lord is residing in your family's house, your father is a Death eater, and you have the expectation hanging over your head of following in his footsteps, there isn't much you can do to resist. It was with this realisatio, that it dawned on Hermione that Draco could have perhaps just been born into the wrong family, in the wrong circumstances, at the wrong time.

That wasn't to say she was wiping his slate clean. Merlin, Malfoy had done things that Hermione didn't even want to think about; things so dark and evil that they were beyond the imagination of someone even as experienced in pain and suffering as Hermione. But she was willing to be lenient, to give him a chance. She'd see if Malfoy's seemingly new outlook on life lasted long enough to be considered a different person – but she wouldn't waste her time with him, either. She would be civil, as she was to the rest of the Slytherins. She didn't particularly like any of them, but at the same time she didn't openly share her distaste, like Ron or Harry did.

"Ron and Harry," she began, noticing the slight flicker of something cross Malfoy's face, as she continued, "have a theory that they will have converted the abandoned girl's bathroom for the eighth years sleeping quarters. What do you think?" She was struggling to think of a conversation that didn't reopen old wounds, but she realised that through discussing the changes to Hogwart that she opened the door to why the changes were needed, in the first place. If it hadn't been for the destruction that the final battle had caused, they wouldn't be having this conversation. It was awkward, talking to a person who had fought for the opposing side – the losing side – about such matters, but Malfoy shrugged it off.

"Yes," Malfoy said, nonchalantly, gazing up at the magnificent castle. "That makes sense. Although the girl's bathroom doesn't hold particularly _fond_ memories for me." Hermione winced as she thought about Harry's incident with _Sectumsempra_ , the spell from Snape's old potions book that had severely injured Malfoy - nearly killed him, in fact. Draco's face showed a split second of pain, at the memory, before he composed himself. The strained conversation that it had become was saved, however, by none other than Professor McGonagall, who had come into the courtyard and was using her wand to amplify her voice, as she asked to speak to all the eighth years in the Great Hall.

Draco and Hermione made their way to the hall silently, Hermione breaking away from the grey eyed Slytherin, and re-joining the throng of Gryffindors, including Harry and Ron who acknowledged her presence with a grin, immediately drawing her into their conversation. Hermione didn't notice Malfoy's sad smile, as he made his way to stand on the outskirts of the group of students. An outsider. He was alone.

The chatter soon subsided, when Professor McGonagall asked for quiet. She began a list of house-keeping; trailing off the previous year's rules – no going in the Forbidden Forest without permission from a member of staff; no fighting in the corridors; duelling and so forth.

"Now," Professor McGonagall continued, "As you are all aware, you have all returned to complete your NEWTs, as last year's circumstances didn't enable you all to do so and fulfil your full potential. Many of you were absent," she paused, looking pointedly at Hermione and Ron and Harry, who stood either side of her, "and many of you were otherwise _preoccupied._ " Hermione saw grins flit across the faces of the remaining members of the DA, and a guilty look directed towards the head teacher came from Malfoy's direction.

"But due to this year's increased intake of students, I ask you to bear with the teaching staff this year, and be as understanding as possible. There will be mix ups and confusion, I assure you, but I will be doing my best to minimise this. Provisions have been made in the castle to accommodate more students. The girl's bathroom, on the second floor; which many of you will know as the residence of Moaning Myrtle, has been converted to a common room."

Grins crossed Harry and Ron's faces, and their pride in being right made Hermione smile too. "However," Professor McGonagall continued, "due to the number of students returning – only a handful of the original year group – it has been decided that whilst you will remain loyal to the houses you were first allocated when you arrived at Hogwarts, there will be only one communal common room. One house, unified, if you will. The password for the common room will be 'muggle'" – Hermione dared dart a look at Malfoy's face at this point. It remained expressionless, and this surprised Hermione. Normally he couldn't help but curl his lip at the word.

"There have been enchantments placed on the room to ensure that only 8th years may enter it. You are still permitted to visit your previous common rooms, as I understand that many of you have friends in the lower years." It took a moment for the murmurs of indignation to die down, but when they did – after a stern look from the bespectacled lady standing on the podium – Professor McGonagall continued.

"I have been asked to inform students that because you are all now of legal age, I cannot force this rule upon you," Hermione saw a blush colour the teachers face slightly, and this made her curious, "I would ask you to refrain from physical relations between each other –"there was a titter amongst the boys at this point, and Hermione tutted. Boys were so immature, she thought. "But I do understand that you have hormones and urges which need to be _dealt with._ " By now, Professor McGonagall had turned as red as beetroot, and Hermione felt sorry for the old witch. "All I'm asking is that you keep your business to yourself, and don't let it come between you and achieving the best grades you can. That is all I have to say on the matter."

The crowd of students began shuffling, as if to leave. Finally, Professor McGonagall added "Oh, and Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy, you will be our head boy and girl this year. I wish to speak to you alone, now, please."

Hermione couldn't help but let a huge grin consume her face – to be Head Girl of Hogwarts was an honour that Hermione had dreamt of, ever since her first day at Hogwarts – and she beamed ecstatically as her Gryffindor co-students congratulated her, and Harry and Ron sang her praises. As the throng of students left the Great Hall, Hermione couldn't help but notice out of the corner of her eye that there was nobody congratulating Malfoy.


	4. I Don't Like the Sound of That

Chapter Four: I Don't Like the Sound of That

The great hall was incredibly different now that there were only three people in there, and as Hermione and Malfoy advanced towards Professor McGonagall so that they could hear her without her having to shout, Hermione couldn't help but feel a little insignificant in this vast space.

"I hope you are aware that is it a great privilege and honour to be chosen as Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry," Professor McGonagall began, "And I hope you both appreciate the reasons why you two have been selected. Miss Granger; you have shown your bravery in our hours of need, you have experience and leadership abilities. You are able to differentiate between right and wrong – even though you have not always made the right choices – and I believe that your sense and knowledge will enable you to do well. Mr Malfoy, although you have done many bad things in your life, you have chosen to return to Hogwarts and face your enemies; and to do that requires a great deal of bravery. I will ensure that differences aside, your classmates are sure to treat you with respect. You too, are a bright and capable student like Miss Granger, and I hope that you are able to put your differences aside and work alongside each other, which I am sure you will." Here she paused to look sternly over the top of her spectacles.

"Furthermore, as you know, the Head Boy & Girl has a dorm away from the other students, and this year, I ask you to keep the rule that your quarters are for you and you alone. The other students are residing in Myrtle's bathroom, which has been converted. This has included an excavation of The Chamber of Secrets, which no longer exists. You may visit your friends in their dormitory. Your quarters have been established in the Room of Requirement, which fortunately repaired itself after the damage done during the war."

Here both Malfoy and Hermione shuddered at the thought of the fiend–fyre that had destroyed the diadem, and nearly killed Malfoy, during the battle. McGonagall didn't notice their reactions and continued. "You will be able to access your dormitory like you would the Room of Requirement – you both know where it is – and all you will have to do is think "I need our dormitory" and you will be granted immediate access. No other students will be able to access the Room of Requirement this year, and I shall make it apparent that it was damaged and is no longer accessible to students. Is that clear?"

Both Hermione and Malfoy nodded. "Professor, so do we not need a password to our dormitory, then?" Hermione enquired.

"No, you shall not. The room has been enchanted to let only yourself and Mr Malfoy in – which is why, I am afraid, you shall not be able to take any friends into your dormitory. I shall think you will find everything you will require has been provided – the room, as you know, is very good at adhering to one's needs."

Hermione smiled as she recalled the Golden Trio's days where they congregated in the room, battling and duelling under the name of the DA. That had been fun, she mused, but now that Voldemort was gone, they had no need to continue practicing. Just as well, she thought – this year everyone needed to knuckle down and get on with their NEWTs!

"In addition," McGonagall added, "Now that your dorm has been discussed, I wish you to alert your fellow students that a new course has been created this year – Guidance & Counselling – as a result of some of the traumas that the students of Hogwarts have experienced. This will be compulsory for all students over the age of sixteen, and will take place for two hours a week. You shall receive details about the whereabouts of the class and time schedule on your timetables, but I wish to prepare the students. Many of them will not react fondly to the class, but I wish for you to assure them that it will do them the world of good in the long run. The teacher, Professor Duxhominem will be arriving tonight, where I shall introduce her to the school. That shall be all." With a curt nod, Professor McGonagall asked, "Have you any questions?"

"Will we receive homework, from this extra course, Professor?" Hermione asked anxiously, worried about the amount of work she would have to deal with, anyway. "It's just –"the teacher cut her off with a smile. After all, Professor McGonagall was very admiring of Hermione's eagerness and work ethic.

"I assume so, Miss Granger, I am afraid," she smiled sympathetically at the look of panic on the witch's face, "But it won't be very taxing and I'm sure Professor Duxhominem will be more than understanding of your predicament."

Hermione shrugged. "Anything else?" When Hermione and Malfoy shook their heads, she dismissed them. It was after they were walking away that Professor McGonagall called after her, "Don't overwork yourself this year, Miss Granger, please," and Hermione smiled and called back, "I'll do my best!"

The walk to the Seventh floor didn't take long, as Hermione matched Malfoy's long strides easily – she'd always been a fast walker; something which Ron and Harry berated her for on a regular basis. It was nice not having to slow her pace for a change – and in all honesty, Hermione was looking forward to surveying her new Dormitory.

"How are you going to survive a whole year of me?" Malfoy jibed, "Just me and you in a room ... with none of your friends and none of mine allowed in. It's going to be fun," he said with a wink, which caused Hermione to roll her eyes.

"I expect I'll survive. You'll keep to yourself and I'll keep to myself," Hermione pointed out. "And besides, you don't have any friends to bring back to your dormitory with you, anyway." It slipped out, and once she said it, she regretted it deeply from the look on Malfoy's face. Oops. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean that," she tried to amend, but it was too late. The damage was done, and Malfoy stormed ahead.

When Hermione finally caught up with him, he was gazing at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. "D'you think we still have to walk past it three times to get in? Or can we just think 'dormitory' like McGonagall said, and get in?" Draco asked her, his tone harsh.

"I don't know," admitted Hermione honestly. "Maybe. But let's try just standing in front of it and thinking of what McGonagall said to think; I need our dormitory."

Hermione and Malfoy turned to face the blank wall, and with a stubborn, concentrated look on their faces, the duo willed the room to give them entry to their dormitory. Sure enough, a painting of Shakespeare – a man who Hermione recognised immediately, but who Malfoy had no idea who he was – appeared, and asked for the password.

Hermione faltered. The Professor hadn't given them a password. Then, a grin spread over the Great Writer's face as he said "I'm only joking. You don't need a password, as I can see you are indeed Miss Granger, and that there... that is Mr Malfoy. Enter." He appeared to turn his nose up at the blonde haired Slytherin, and Hermione felt slightly sorry for him.

Without saying anything other than "Thanks," to the portrait, the opening to the wall enveloped the two students.

Hermione gasped as she surveyed the room. It was everything she had dreamt of when she'd romanticized the idea of being Head Girl. Now, of course that dream was lessened by the fact that Malfoy, instead of Ron or Harry, was head boy. Nevertheless, she looked round the room in wonder, her eyes pouring over every detail. It was much like the Gryffindor common room; except two large plush leather chairs were seated in front of a fire that was already crackling in the grate – Hermione made a mental note to thank the House Elves later – and a chess table sat to one side of it. It made Hermione smile when she thought about the amount of times that she'd been beaten numerous times by the Weasleys and Harry over the course of the summer. She suspected that Malfoy would probably beat her too – not that she had any intention of playing chess with him, or him with her.

The walls weren't just walls; they were in-built bookshelves with hundreds of different novels lining them. It was almost as if part of the library had been removed and placed in their dormitory! The grin spread wider and wider over Hermione's face, as she stood in front of the shelves, poring over the titles. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice Malfoy creep up behind her and grab her waist. A small yelp or surprise rang through the empty room, and Hermione turned to face Malfoy, her face crimson.

"What did you do that for?" She exclaimed. A smirk spread across Malfoy's face, and he shrugged.

"That's for earlier when you said I had no friends. But you're right, you know, I don't have any friends. Crab, Goyle, Pansy. They were just people who I _thought_ I was friends with; that I liked. But really they were only friends with me because of my blood status. Now that there's no war anymore, that no longer means anything to me, particularly as my Dad... you know... he's gone. It's me and my Mum, now, and I realise that my Dad's been bringing me up on these ideas regarding blood status; but blood doesn't mean anything. If anyone's shown that, it's you, Hermione. Taking on the Dark Lord with those two _friends_ of yours. You're one of the bravest people I know, and I guess I just never saw that, with my father around." He smiled wistfully, and turned away without waiting for a reply from Hermione.

"But all those times you used to mock, tease and taunt me and my friends? You can't just forget about that Malfoy, or at least I can't. You made a lot of my school life hell, you know, and I'm not so quick to forgive, even if you _have_ seen the error of your ways."

"I know, and I'm not asking for forgiveness, yet. All those times I called you Mudblood, and Weasley a Blood traitor, I was just looking for acceptance, but now I don't want to be accepted by the people I once revelled in their admiration... so I just want you to know that you won't have me to worry about this year. I'll stay out of your way."

"Oh. Well thanks, I guess. But you're going to have a hard time convincing Harry and Ron that you've changed. Ron still thinks we shouldn't have rescued you from the Room of Requirement, you know." She shrugged almost apologetically.

"You're welcome, Yes, I don't think Potter or Weasley will be warming to me anytime soon, but I don't intend to be best pals with them anyway. I'm just trying to lead a normal life, now that _he's_ gone." Malfoy spat the 'he' forcefully; showing Hermione just how affected he had been by the Dark Lord's presence in his house, and his newfound hate for his father. "And if I were Weasley – god forbid; I mean, can you imagine, me, Ginger?" Hermione laughed at the utter look of horror that crossed Malfoy's face. "Anyway, if I were Weasley, well... let's just say I'm not so sure I'd have saved me, either. But I'm glad you did. And I hope you realise just how sorry I am. For everything, Hermione."

The look on Malfoy's face was one of pure apology – he seemed truly sorry for the deeds of his past, and yet Hermione couldn't forgive him that easily. So she just nodded, and watched as Malfoy turned on his heels and went to explore the other rooms.


	5. Where Has Draco Malfoy Gone?

**Chapter Five: Where has Draco Malfoy Gone?**

"Erm Hermione?" Malfoy called from one of the other rooms. Hermione pulled herself away from the bookshelf, where she was revelling in the vast expanse of titles. "You're not going to like this," he continued, and Hermione quickened her pace until she was standing next to the blonde haired Slytherin.

"What?" Hermione asked, a tone of worry shining through in her voice. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively and peered into the room. It was a large, luxurious bathroom complete with two basins, a shower, bath and toilet. "What's the matter?" She asked again, and Malfoy turned to her with a smirk on his face.

"Looks like we're going to be sharing a bathroom, Granger... you better be careful to lock the door or I might _accidentally_ walk in on you naked..." There wasn't a menacing tone to Malfoy's voice, Hermione noticed. It was something else. Flirtatious, even, and she raised an eyebrow quizzically at him.

"Look, Malfoy, you may have apologised for your misdeeds, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you see me naked anytime soon. If you so much as set one foot in that bathroom when I'm in it, then you'll find your genitalia severely damaged – I'm sure there's a spell for bodily damage somewhere in one of my books. We clear?" She asked, her turn to wear a smirk on her face.

"Crystal, Miss Granger," Malfoy retorted, grinning and executing a sarcastic bow to Hermione. She rolled her eyes. As much as she didn't relish the prospect of having to share a bathroom with Malfoy, at least he was being civil. This new him was hard to get used to, Hermione thought; it'd take a while before she finally adjusted to his new persona.

Malfoy opened one of the doors opposite the bathroom and peered in, and he called over his shoulder to Hermione, "Looks like this one's yours," he said, "judging by the colour scheme. This must be mine," he said and he opened the door next to it. Sure enough, Hermione caught a glimpse of green furnishings before he ran in and sprawled on the bed. "Not too shabby," Malfoy grinned, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have unpacking to do!"

Hermione stepped into the room that Malfoy had said was hers, and looked around. He was right – it was certainly better than their communal dormitories had been the previous years. A four poster bed was backed against a wall, where there was a view out over the Black Lake. _Nice_ thought Hermione. A chest of drawers, wardrobe and floor length mirror was arranged neatly, and there was a large plush red rug that Hermione's feet sunk into. At the bottom of the bed there was a scattering of assorted cushions, and a rather expensive looking bed throw. A trunk, at the foot of the bed held promise for knick-knack storage, and Hermione was pleased to see her trunk and Crookshanks' cage had already been brought up. So Hermione set about unpacking - unfolding and putting away robes, filing her books alphabetically on the bookshelf, and generally making herself at home. This year would be rather comfortable, she thought to herself, as she took a break and lay sprawled out on the four poster bed, sinking into the fabric, and staring at the space above the canopy. She was so absorbed in thought that she didn't hear Malfoy knocking on the door.

She jumped in surprise when she saw him enter her room, and demanded outraged, "What are you doing in here? Haven't you ever heard of knocking? I could have been _naked!_ " Hermione pointed out.

"I did knock... you obviously didn't hear me, must have been deep in thought or something. Pity you're not naked," Malfoy said, looking Hermione up and down. She felt a faint blush coming to her cheeks, as she found Malfoy's eyes scrutinizing her body and then giving what looked like a small smile of approval. Over the summer Hermione had matured a little more – a late growth spurt, Molly had said, she'd gained an inch in height, and was a little shapelier. Due to her lack of money – her parents were still in Australia, with no idea they had a daughter – she hadn't bought new uniform, after all, it was like Molly said, waste not want not. So Hermione knew that last year's blouse was a little tight across her bust, emphasising her curves, and she knew her trousers were quite figure hugging – but she hadn't expected this reaction when she took her robes off, and certainly not from Malfoy!

Embarrassed, Hermione changed the subject, "What do you want, then, anyway?" and Malfoy chuckled at her blatant awkwardness.

"I was just wondering if you'd unpacked, because if you had then maybe we should go check up on the others and tell them about the extra classes."

Hermione paused for a moment, in thought, before nodding. She knew already that a lot of the eighth years wouldn't respond well to this extra class; particularly not with the amount of work they would be receiving this year, already - they didn't need any more stress. They'd need as much time before the first lesson as possible to overcome their prejudices. "Sure," Hermione said, "I'm done here so let me just get my robe and I'll meet you by the portrait."

She smiled at Malfoy, and to her surprise he nodded, before smiling back.

"Sure. Although you don't need to put your robes back on, you know, I wouldn't mind walking down a corridor with you looking like that," he grinned, looking her up and down once more.

Hermione nearly had a heart attack. Did Draco Malfoy really just say that he wouldn't mind being seen with her walking down a corridor? "Where's Malfoy and what have you done with him?" Hermione retorted, and Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"What?" Malfoy exclaimed, "Am I not allowed to be nice, now?"

Hermione giggled. "Nice, yes, but if I didn't know better Malfoy, I'd say you were being a tad flirtatious. You might want to watch yourself; people could get the wrong idea about us two sharing a dorm." She winked, jokingly, but Malfoy looked taken aback.

"Well maybe that's my intention, Granger," he smirked. "Maybe I want people to think I've tainted your unicorn reputation..." OK. Thought Hermione, this is getting seriously weird. "But then again maybe it's just part of my new image. Don't want to start off by making more enemies than I've already got, do I?"

Malfoy left the room, leaving a bewildered Hermione in his wake. She genuinely thought that the real Draco Malfoy had been abducted and there was someone doing a very bad job of impersonating him and his previously bad boy demeanour.

Pulling on her robe on in a hurry, Hermione followed Malfoy out of her door and met him by the portrait hole where he was leaning casually against the wall.

"Ready?" Hermione answered Malfoy's question with a nod, and the two walked in companionable silence, neither one initiating the conversation that held many answers to which they both wanted answers… that would have to wait for another time.

When the two students arrived at the newly converted bathroom, they said the password "muggle" and the portrait swung inwards. They gasped at the changes that the room had undergone; you would have never have guessed it had once been a bathroom, as now it resembled the Gryffindor common room that Hermione had grown to know and love over the years – but she had to admit, she preferred Malfoy's and her own room much more as it was far more personal. Harry looked up from where he was sat in a chair near the fireplace and grinned.

"Hey Hermione," his face fell, a look of distaste flickering across it when he saw Malfoy stood behind her.

"Hi Harry. Could you get everyone to gather round here, for me, please? Malfoy and I have some things we need to tell you all."

Harry nodded, and ran off to collect everyone from their dorms. There were no charms this year preventing the boys entering the girl's quarters and vice versa, as everyone had their own little room for the sense of privacy. It seemed like McGonagall had made best use of the Chamber of Secrets; as everyone was gushing in praise at the quality of their new rooms when they all finally gathered around the head boy and girl.

Malfoy, Hermione noted, was stood rather sheepishly behind her, avoiding the gaze of so many of the students who were surveying him with a degree of hatred. She nudged him, and he looked at her, before she hissed, "D'you want to break it to them about the counselling lessons? Or shall I?"

Malfoy shrugged, and then realising that he had something to prove, said, "I will." He stepped forward, noting with distaste that some of the students stepped back, almost as if they were scared, or disgusted to be in his presence. He did his best to ignore it – the last thing he needed was for his anger to get the best of him. "This year, Professor McGonagall has asked Hermione and me to inform you that there will be an extra class, which you will not be examined in. The school feels it necessary, that after certain _events_ of last year, some of us, if not all of us, would benefit from counselling. So, the school has made Guidance  & Counselling lessons compulsory, assuring us that we will not receive too much extra work on top of our NEWTs," this he added for the benefit of Hermione who shot him a small smile – "and the teacher, Professor Duxhominem, will be present at the feast tonight. I hope you all can understand why the head teacher feels this is necessary, and do not have any complaints. That is all," Malfoy said, with a curt nod, and stepped back, letting Hermione take the limelight.

"That's right. We don't need to make any unnecessary fuss – as much as some of us won't want these lessons, we shall be the responsible adults we are and lump it. I also wish to remind you that this year is no exception for rule breaking – and don't expect me to be lenient on you because I am your friend. As head girl, it is my duty to see that those breaking the rules, get the come-uppance that they deserve – and that goes for _everyone,"_ Hermione said sternly, shooting a pointed look in Harry and Ron's direction. "But that's pretty much it, I think," Hermione said, smiling. "Here's to a peaceful year at Hogwarts, with no interruptions to our studies," she beamed, causing giggles amongst the students. Harry had been right when he'd said they'd never have a quiet year at Hogwarts – would this year be any different? Hermione wondered. She certainly hoped so.

The bunch of students dispersed, leaving Malfoy, Hermione, Ron and Harry stood awkwardly around. Hermione broke the silence, "I'm going to stay here with my friends for a bit. I'll meet you after the feast in the great hall to go patrolling, OK?" Malfoy gave a curt nod, before leaving via the portrait hole.

As soon as he was out of sight, Ron hissed, "Bloody hell Hermione, what was that about? He called you Hermione in his little speech, not Granger, and didn't insult anyone once!"

Hermione hadn't noticed Malfoy addressing her by her first name, but now that Ron had pointed it out, it did seem rather odd. "I don't know, Ron! Maybe he's changed – trying to put on a good act to show he deserves to be head boy? Don't ask me!" She exclaimed. "But I think it would be best for all of us if we tried to make amends and at least be civil to each other with him. It would make life for all of us a lot easier if we all just got along – particularly me seeing as it's him and me in a dorm all alone all year."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, seeming particularly outraged, "You're in a room all alone with that bastard? What if he does something, like tries to get you pregnant or something?" Both Harry and Hermione burst out in peals of laughter at Ron's suggestion, and Hermione placed a hand on Ron's arm reassuringly.

"Ron, trust me, the last thing I'm going to be doing is jumping into bed with Malfoy, so don't worry about it. I'll be fine; I just think we should give him a chance to make amends. After all, it does seem like he's changed. I mean, he hasn't called me _Mudblood_ once!"

Ron and Harry regarded Hermione with a degree of suspicion, before Harry spoke up. "Why are you being so quick to forgive him, Hermione? How can you just let all the years of being tormented and teased go down the drain without giving them a second thought? Malfoy's evil, Hermione, and I don't know about you Ron, but I'm not making up with the bastard anytime soon!" Ron nodded, and Hermione sighed frustratedly.

"I'm not asking you to become friends with the guy," she explained, "It's just he's been through a lot and I think he's kind of lost right now; his father's dead and his Mum's gone off the bend. He doesn't have any friends. I'm just saying go easy on him - not pairing up with him in potions kind of friendly!"

Ron and Harry regarded her for a long moment, before Ron said, "Sorry Hermione but I can't do it. I hate the guy and I'm not as quick to forgive as some people. So I'm afraid the little ferret is going to do something pretty miraculous for me to believe that this whole I've-turned-over-a-new-leaf thing isn't an act." Harry nodded.

"If I didn't know you better," Harry said to Hermione, "I'd say from the way you're defending him, you have a bit of a soft spot for Malfoy." He and Ron laughed, not noticing the slightly reddish tinge that came to Hermione's ears, hidden in her lustrous curls.

"But it's Malfoy, right? Even if he was the last guy on earth you wouldn't touch him," Ron added, unhelpfully, without even a degree of questioning in his voice. Thankfully, Ginny entered the room at the perfect moment.

"Hey Ginny," Ron called, ignoring the lovey-dovey eyes Harry was making at his sister. "Don't you think that if Malfoy was the last guy alive you rather die than touch him?"

His sister shot him a withering look, before looking knowingly at Hermione. "Honestly Ronald, have you not got eyes? Have you not _seen_ Malfoy lately," she said, giving a girls-only look to Hermione. "He's hot – there's no denying it!"

Hermione listened to what Ginny was saying and thought about the blonde Slytherin. She had to admit it – he had become noticeably changed over the holidays – much like herself, she thought. His once slicked back blonde hair hung loosely in blonde strands over his forehead, and his once cold, hard grey eyes had become a degree softer and were now more seductive than anything else. He was well built and muscular from Quidditch but he was also skinny from leading an active lifestyle – unlike Neville, who had always piled on the pounds a bit after spending the summer with his Grandmother who fattened him up with her cooking. Not that Hermione had spent much time ogling Malfoy, but when he'd looked her up and down earlier in her room, she'd had ample opportunity to "check him out" as the expression goes.

Ginny was still babbling on about Malfoy's ladies charm and looks, when she asked, "Right, Hermione?" All eyes turned on her, and Hermione found herself blush a tiny bit at being caught off guard – although they all thought it was because she was having not so innocent thoughts about Malfoy, which was partly true as well.

"Um, pardon?" Hermione managed to squeak out. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Malfoy's hot, isn't he?" Ginny asked, and Harry and Ron shot daggers at her.

"He's ... OK, I suppose. But yes, he is significantly hotter than he used to be." Ginny smiled in triumph.

"See Ronald," Ginny smirked. "I'm not the only one who thinks so. So although he's an arrogant, pompous and stuck up twat, he's still hot. So don't be so quick to reckon Hermione wouldn't jump his bones." With a wink, Ginny left the room, leaving Hermione Ron and Harry standing gaping.

Ron broke the silence. "You wouldn't ... do that ... with Malfoy, would you, Hermione?" Ron asked cautiously. Hermione shook her head wildly.

"Of course not Ronald!" She tutted. "Malfoy may jump into bed with anyone and brag about it the next day, but one person with whom that isn't happening, is me. I like to think I am a strong willed person, after all." She'd struck a nerve, for one of the reasons for her and Ron's breakup over the summer had been because he had been so open about their sex life. He'd gone into all the gory details over breakfast – and Hermione had felt sickened by how flippantly he treated the act of love-making. He wasn't even that good a shag, Hermione mused. All talk, no game – he'd been selfish and Hermione had just _known_ it wasn't meant to be. Hopefully their friendship, which had taken a pretty sharp blow, was on the road to recovery now.

"Good," Ron sighed, relieved. "Because if that Malfoy does _anything_ to you, I'll hex the living daylights out of him!"


End file.
